


so happy together

by curtaincall



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Trapped In Elevator, john mulaney i'm sorry, the salt and pepper diner bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 10:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21426499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curtaincall/pseuds/curtaincall
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley are trapped in an elevator playing the Turtles' "Happy Together" on repeat.There are limits to even the most angelic self-restraint.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 345
Collections: Chaotic Omens: The Fallout of a Big Bang





	so happy together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FancyTrinkets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyTrinkets/gifts).

> This is based on a prompt by FancyTrinkets, who requested Crowley and Aziraphale trapped in close proximity while "Happy Together" plays on repeat. Thanks to atmilliways for suggesting that it be in an elevator!
> 
> For the optimum experience, I recommend listening to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ZEURntrQOg) while you read.

_ April, 2018 _

The meeting with Heaven went the way they always did, these days, Aziraphale reflected with a somewhat un-angelic bitterness as he made his way down the corridor towards the elevator. It was there waiting for him, of course—perks of Heavenly elevators, you didn’t need to call them—and he got on and pushed the usual button to go down without really looking at the panel.

“Going down,” said the elevator. Aziraphale almost thanked it before remembering it wasn’t sentient.

Some popular song that he vaguely recognized was playing over the speakers, and he made a mental note to talk to Facilities about their music choices. Yes, most of the good composers were out of the question, but this..._ doo-wop, _or whatever it was, surely couldn’t be by anyone Heaven had sanctioned.

The elevator came to a stop, and Aziraphale moved forward to exit, and then the doors opened to reveal what was decidedly _ not _the lobby of their office building.

“Hell level,” said the elevator.

Aziraphale peered at the buttons. No, he’d definitely pressed “lobby,” and in any case, this elevator didn’t _ go _ to Hell. They had their _ own. _ It wouldn’t do for Heaven and Hell to share an elevator, after all, could you imagine if _ angels _ had to share the lift with _ demons— _

“Hey, Aziraphale,” said Crowley, stepping into the elevator. 

Aziraphale’s traitorous heart surged with joy. He mercilessly beat it down again. This _ would not _ do— “What,” he asked, in as chilly a voice as possible, “are _ you _ doing on _ our _elevator?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Hellevator’s out of order, guess we’re sharing, for now.” He pressed the Door Close button. 

“Going up,” said the elevator.

“So,” said Crowley, leaning back against the wall, “how’ve you been?”

Aziraphale gave him what he _ hoped _ was a “don’t talk to me, we’re at work” look but _ feared _ was a “please ravish me in this elevator” look.

Crowley snorted. “They don’t have eyes in here, angel. Can’t be bothered. Done some of my best work in here, I have.”

“What do you mean by—” Aziraphale started to ask, but was cut off by the elevator coming to an abrupt stop.

“Huh,” said Crowley. “Now, I know it’s _ your _elevator, but is that supposed to happen?”

“Erm,” said Aziraphale. “I don’t think so, no.” He gingerly pressed the Door Open button. Nothing happened.

“Hmm,” said Crowley. “Looks like this one’s gone down, too. We,” he said, grinning in a way that made Aziraphale distinctly uneasy, “are _ stuck.” _

“Well,” said Aziraphale, “not for long, I’m sure, I’ll just—” He pressed the Help button. Nothing happened. 

“Yeah, that’s not working either,” said Crowley, somehow lounging even more aggressively against the handrail. “Same thing happened with the Hellevator.”

_ “Very _ well,” retorted Aziraphale, forcefully tearing his eyes away from the serpentine lines of Crowley’s body, “they can hardly claim it’s a frivolous miracle when I’m _ stuck _ in _ their _ elevator _ , _can they?” He snapped his fingers. Nothing happened. He frowned, and snapped them again. Nothing continued to happen. 

“Mm-hmm,” said Crowley, “so, thing is, your lot disabled miracles within the elevator when they agreed to let us use it for the time being. Avoid any _ funny business, _they said.”

Aziraphale reflected miserably that _ funny business, _in Crowley’s voice, sounded positively obscene. 

The same song—was it the same song? They all sounded alike—was playing in the background, and they stood in silence for a moment.

_ Imagine me and you, I do _ _  
_ _ I think about you day and night, it’s only right _

“Ah,” said Aziraphale, quickly, “so, erm, how’s the, ah, the evil going?”

_ “How’s the evil going?” _ Crowley repeated. “Really? _ That’s _your line?”

Aziraphale stared at him pointedly.

_ I can’t see me loving nobody but you for all my life _ _  
_ _ When you’re with me, baby, the skies’ll be blue for all my life _

Crowley cleared his throat. “Right. The evil. Ah. I actually, well, okay, you’ll like this one, it’s called multi-level marketing, and the way it works…”

Aziraphale felt himself starting to smile, half-against his will. He hadn’t seen Crowley like this in too long—relaxed, animated, waving his arms around as he explained something about pyramids and downlines.

Crowley broke off. “What?”

Aziraphale realized that he’d been staring at Crowley with what must’ve been a distinctly _ soppy _look in his eyes. “Ah. Nothing. Do go on.”

Crowley didn’t go on, though. He just looked at Aziraphale, for a moment, his eyes hidden behind his glasses.

_ I can’t see me loving nobody but you for all my life... _

“_How _long is this song?” Aziraphale asked, his voice nearly cracking. “It, ah, it feels as though it’s been playing ever since I got in here.”

Crowley shrugged. “Well, it’ll be over soon enough, won’t it?” It had the cadence of a prayer.

“Right,” said Aziraphale, nodding. “Soon enough.” He looked anywhere but at Crowley. Because they were in an elevator, this severely limited his viewing options.

Aziraphale was almost through counting the lines on the floor for the fifth time (he counted _ very _quickly) when the song faded out. He heard Crowley let out a sigh of what was presumably relief, and allowed himself to glance up at him, again, because now, hopefully, they could go back to just having an ordinary conversation— 

_ Imagine me and you, I do _ _  
_ _ I think about you day and night, it’s only right _

Aziraphale banged a fist against the elevator wall in frustration. _ “What _ in _ Heaven’s _ name is happening here?” he snapped. “That is, all right, you heard it, that is _ definitely _ the same song, and, do you know what, I don’t think it’s just been two plays, I think it’s been _ at least _four.”

“Nah,” Crowley said, “song’s probably just longer than you thought, if it’s one of those ones with a dip in the middle…” He trailed off, looking as though he’d just been struck by a particularly unpleasant revelation.

“What?” Aziraphale asked. 

“I _ knew _I shouldn’t have shown Tricia in Facilities that clip,” Crowley muttered.

_ “What _clip?” Aziraphale asked, irritated.

Crowley sighed. “Okay, so, there’s this American comedian…” He stopped, and shook his head. “Y’know what, it’s not worth explaining, you won’t get it. But I, well, I think we’re about to hear ‘Happy Together’ _ several _ more times, that’s all, and it _ may, _uh, indirectly be my fault.”

“How—” Aziraphale started to ask, and stopped himself. “Actually, I don’t care. We may as well be frank,” he said, sliding down so that he was sitting on the elevator floor, back against the wall. “This is plainly torturous, and if you have _ any _suggestions for how best to get through it, please do share them, they’d be much appreciated.”

“You mean _ besides _shagging?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale glared at him. He strongly suspected the effect of the glare was somewhat diminished by the blush he could feel rising to his cheeks, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Yes,” he said, in the most dignified manner possible. “Besides...that.”

“All right,” said Crowley, and slid down to join Aziraphale on the floor. “Read any good books lately?”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “Good _ books?” _

Crowley shrugged. “Well, it beats _ how’s the evil going, _anyway.”

“Point taken,” said Aziraphale, and sighed. “Um. Books.” 

Unfortunately, it appeared that every book he’d ever read had somehow mysteriously disappeared from his brain.

_ I can’t see me loving nobody but you for all my life _ _  
_ _ When you’re with me, baby, the skies’ll be blue for all my life _

He looked at Crowley, sprawled out on the elevator floor, and swallowed, trying to tamp down all these _ feelings _ that he kept having, feelings he’d been aware of for far too many years, now, feelings he’d been—well, _ feeling, _for far too long before that.

The song faded out, again—that had to be seven times, by now, Aziraphale reckoned wretchedly. There was a pause, and Aziraphale thought _ here we go again. _

And something _ else _played over the speakers.

_ Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn’t have to wait so long _ _  
_ _ And wouldn’t it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong _

For years, scientists have wondered: can you make an angel and a demon who have been languishing in forbidden love for six millennia heave sighs of relief by playing The Beach Boys’ “Wouldn’t It Be Nice?” And the answer is, yes, you can, as long as it is preceded by seven “Happy Togethers.” 

“Oh, thank _ Heaven,” _Aziraphale said.

“Doubt _ they _had much to do with it,” Crowley said, and stood up. “I am,” he announced, “never complaining about Queen again.”

“Still,” Aziraphale said, too relieved to bother being testy. “It’s apparently _ over.” _

“Ah,” said Crowley, uncomfortably. “About that.”

_ “What?” _Aziraphale asked.

“If, uh, if what I _ think _ is happening is _ actually _happening, then…” Crowley trailed off. “Well, never mind,” he said, and shook his head. “Uh. No use speculating. Probably not what I thought after all.”

“If you’re _ certain,” _said Aziraphale, suspiciously, but decided to let the matter rest. “Do you think we ought to try the call button again?”

Crowley shook his head. “Doubt it’ll do any good. No, what’ll happen is, some angel tries to get on and notices a distinct lack of elevator. _ Then _they’ll notify Facilities. We’d best just sit tight—”

He broke off. “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” was coming to an end. “Moment of truth,” Crowley muttered.

_ Imagine me and you, I do _

Aziraphale positively _ flew _ up from the floor, jumped to standing, knocking his knee against the handrail. “God _ damn _ it,” he said, blasphemously, “I _ cannot _handle this!” He felt itchy, almost, with frustration, as though there were a bug crawling around under his skin, demanding to be let out, or a tidal wave of pent-up emotion surging inside of him, growing, growing, till it was about to crash— 

There was only so much self-control one angel could have. Aziraphale took a deep breath, placed a hand on Crowley’s chest, shoved him back against the elevator wall, and kissed him.

Crowley made a surprised sort of noise, at first, but seemed to get on board with the proceedings relatively quickly, wrapping one hand around the back of Aziraphale’s head, letting his fingers intertwine with the locks of angel hair, while his other hand took hold of Aziraphale’s waist and began sauntering vaguely downwards— 

There was a jerk, and the elevator started moving.

Aziraphale broke the kiss, but Crowley, who apparently hadn’t noticed the sudden change in their vertical circumstances, just let out a sigh, and nuzzled into Aziraphale’s neck, instead.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, stepping back with great difficulty and pushing him gently away, “we, ah—”

“Lobby level,” said the elevator, and came to a smooth stop.

Crowley looked around, as though he wasn’t quite sure where he was. “Right,” he croaked. “Well.”

The doors slid open, but neither of them moved.

“Lobby level,” said the elevator, again.

“That’s enough out of _ you,” _Crowley muttered.

“I’ll be going, then,” Aziraphale said, awkwardly. “I, erm, I’m certain I’ll see you around. What with the, the, uh...” _ Antichrist. _

“Right,” Crowley said, hoarsely. “Sounds grand.” He gave an abortive sort of wave and stalked off the elevator, going, Aziraphale strongly suspected, nowhere in particular.

Aziraphale, for his part, sighed, and patted his hair back into order, and got off the elevator himself. It was, he noticed, still playing “Happy Together.”

* * *

_ November, 2019 _

They were in a little shop, somewhere or other, and Aziraphale was poking through an assortment of what were frankly creepy-looking china dolls, and Crowley was leaning up against a wall and glaring at anyone who looked avariciously at any of said dolls and debating whether or not to use a tiny miracle to ensure that a nearby woman with a can-I-speak-to-the-manager haircut would _ not _be getting a discount today.

He had just about decided on _ yes _when the store’s speakers faded out whatever Ariana Grande song they’d been playing and started up again with a familiar beat:

_ Imagine me and you, I do _ _  
_ _ I think about you day and night, it’s only right _

Aziraphale looked up from the dolls, a distinctly mischievous look in his eyes, and Crowley felt his mouth curving into a smile, felt an unbridled delight well up in his heart, the way it did so often these days.

“I think,” Aziraphale said, slowly, “that I’m quite finished looking here.”

Crowley’s grin grew wider. “Ready to go home, then?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Oh, _ yes.” _

The song was still playing when they left the shop, but they’d stopped listening.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not familiar with John Mulaney's Salt and Pepper Diner bit, a) congratulations, because I don't know how you managed to be on the Internet in 2019 and have missed it, and b) [please listen to it.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QnkrL42R7gk)
> 
> [I made a playlist for this fic because why not?](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Kf9yI1EOVYaWiT2kcPMCM)


End file.
